What Lies Beneath
by MerlinXFan28
Summary: Arthur was prepared for taking the throne after his father. He had been trained for every aspect of leading a kingdom. He was a leader, a quick and agile swordsman and not only that, but he loved his kingdom with all of his heart. But when the Once and Future King stumbles upon a secret, a rather dark secret that his father has been keeping—what will he do next?
1. Chapter 1

Hi there readers. This is my VERY FIRST Arthur story! So for those who read, please be gentle with the critics. I came up with this story idea, and although it's darker and meant for a mature audience, I still wanted to give it a-go. Please let me know what you think of it because I'm not really sure myself of what I think LOL.

If you like Merlin/OC stories, also take a look at my story _Twisted, _the more readers the better!

Above all, I hope you like this! I'm still in the works but I am working hard on it, so hopefully it shows and you like this story! More will be on the way eventually.

WARNING: Story is meant for mature audiences.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own anything related to BBC's Merlin series

_What Lies Beneath_

_Chapter One: Her Cage_

It had been like any other day for the prince and his manservant.

Arthur was greeted by Merlin in his usual manner, the sun suddenly gleaming into his eyes and burning his corneas. Then after reprimanding his idiotic servant, Arthur got ready for the day, ate his breakfast and met his father in the great hall where they began council meetings. After all of that had been said and done, the prince was given the rest of the day to do what he pleased.

Which was why the prince was out in the field, Merlin holding a tiny hoop just above his head.

"Sire, is this really necessary?" Merlin called out hesitantly as he glanced up at the ring in his hands. He glanced back at his master, the blond merely smirking back at him as he adjusted the joisting stick in his hand.

"Of course! I wouldn't ask for you to do this if it wasn't," the prince retorted back innocently, though his manservant could see right through it.

"Now, are you ready?"

"Would it matter if I said no?"

Without hesitation, Arthur dug his heels into his brown steed's stomach, causing the horse to rise on to its hind legs and charge towards Merlin. The manservant stared like prey staring into its hunter's eyes. He stood like a stone—motionless and stiff. It wasn't until the tip of Arthur's joisting stick began to zero-in towards his head that he squeezed his eyes shut, releasing a yelp as he released the ring after he felt the tug from Arthur.

Stumbling backwards, Merlin turned and looked back, watching as Arthur grabbed the hoop from his prop, smirking proudly at his friend. "Don't be such a girl, Merlin." Said servant rolled his eyes in response before shaking his head with a smile; he could never stay angry with his friend for too long.

"Where are the other knights?" Merlin finally inquired after realizing how bare the training field was looking. As he glanced around, his gaze fell upon Arthur, the prince riding up to him as he too began searching the area.

"Not sure. Perhaps they trained earlier this afternoon," he pointed out, though he himself was unsure of his own explanation. Shrugging the thought off, the prince sighed as he stepped down from his horse, handing the reigns to his servant.

"Instead of worrying about the knights, you should be worrying about the list of things I gave you that you still have yet to do!" Arthur snapped, Merlin immediately rolling his eyes. The servant winced as he received a solid smack on the back of his head, his master shaking his head. "Get to it!"

"Right, _sire_," Merlin said with a flippant smile, Arthur unable to fight back his own smile; his friend was such an idiot sometimes.

Watching his manservant walk back towards the citadel, Arthur stood in the training field for a moment. He stared at the few knights training amongst themselves before he shook his head, deciding to make his way back to his chambers.

~O~

As Arthur strolled through the corridor towards his bed room, he couldn't help but feel unsettled. There was something in the air that day that was just amiss. He couldn't quite place why, but whatever was causing this feeling only grew worse when the prince saw one of his knights inconspicuously make his way down the staircase that led towards the dungeon. His brows furrowed inward as he frowned, glancing around the empty hallway. Deciding to follow the voice of his intuition, the prince quickly made his way towards the staircase.

Making his way down each step, the blond made sure to keep silent; he was one with the shadows by the time he reached the bottom of the staircase. Peeking around the corner, Arthur watched as Sir Melville walked past the cells of the dungeon before turning left towards. Confusion consumed the prince, for the left corridor only led towards a dead end. Where was Melville going?

Not wasting time, Arthur quickly followed after Melville, ignoring the very few drunkards locked behind the cell bars bellowing at him. He quickly leered around the corner but blinked, completely shocked; Melville had disappeared.

"I—I don't understand," Arthur said to himself as he quickly glanced around the empty room. He looked from wall-to-wall, nothing in the room disturbed or moved.

Except—there was something.

The prince glanced down at the small pile of hay in the corner of the room. He raised a brow as he noticed something poking out from the floor board. His curiosity only grew as he slowly walked towards the object. Kneeling down, the prince dusted a few strands of straw from the floor before he raised a brow.

It seemed he had found a latch.

He hesitated for a moment. Arthur wasn't sure what he was going to find. And what was Melville beyond this floorboard? What was beneath this castle he had called home?

Ignoring the questions in his head, Arthur tugged the latch open, coughing as dust arose. He waved the specks away as he cleared his throat, sitting on one knee in order to get a better look. He narrowed his eyes, another set of stairs leading into the darkness below. He frowned as he stood to his feet, quietly following each step. His footsteps echoed through the silence before he finally reached the bottom of the rather spacious crawlspace. He took a moment to gather his bearings—

And what he found had shocked him to his core.


	2. Chapter 2

So here is the second chapter of this story. Thank you to you readers out there giving this a chance. I'm working out some kinks and trying to figure out the direction of the story, so hopefully it all turns out alright. I appreciate the support and I hope you all enjoy this one. Like I've stated in the chapter before, this is a bit of a darker series so if you would prefer something lighter I understand completely! I've got a lot of story ideas in my head for different characters and for Arthur and Merlin so perhaps one of those in the future would be best fit, who knows.

Excuse my babbling, and continue with the story!

WARNING: If you are not comfortable with mentions of sexual content please do not continue!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own anything related to BBC's Merlin series

_Chapter Two: Her Sentence_

Relaxing in his chair, Uther sighed as he stared up at the ceiling of the great hall. He let his shoulders sag for just one moment before he gained his composure back; a king is never allowed to show weakness.

It had been almost a year since Morgana had been taken by the sorceress, but Uther still had high hopes. He hadn't stopped searching, he hadn't given up on his ward; she meant the world to him. Still, although he was dedicated, he couldn't deny the weariness he felt. The thought of losing Morgana permanently seemed to break his spirits with each passing day—but like stated before, he wouldn't give up.

As the King of Camelot stood to his feet, he nearly jumped out of his skin as the door to the great hall slammed open. He blinked as he watched his son storm into the room with one of his knights in his grasp. He nearly threw the man to the floor, surprising Uther even more so. The king ignored his son's manservant as the brunet quickly followed into the room after Arthur.

"What is the meaning of this?" the king inquired curiously as Arthur glared down at Sir Melville, nearly panting from his rage.

"Why did you never tell me?" Arthur began, ignoring his father's question.

"Tell you what?"

"Down in the dungeon!" the prince snapped fiercely, Merlin staying close by his friend's side; he was there to make sure nothing escalated.

There were no words to describe how Arthur was feeling. Mortified, horrified, completely disgusted—nothing could accurately name the prince's emotions. When he finally had taken a moment to look around the new territory, he had found Melville with his trousers to his ankles, staring back at him with fear and shock.

At first, Arthur didn't understand what had been happening. It was dark and dank below where they were, but once his bright blue eyes had adjusted to the lighting, it was all so clear to him—and it had awoke a beast inside of him.

Realization falling over Uther, the king's gaze softened as he glanced at Melville, the knight not daring to meet his gaze. "You speak of the prisoner?"

"I speak of the _woman _locked away under the castle floor like an animal!" Arthur nearly yelled. Merlin's eyes widened as he glanced over at the king, shocked by what his master had discovered.

The image was engrained permanently into the prince's head. Never before had he seen something like it before. He hadn't even known that part of the dungeon had existed—and yet he was supposed to be future king? Arthur nearly gagged at the memory as he glared down at Melville with a new found sense of hatred he had never felt for anyone before.

"I don't understand," Arthur said as he looked at his father, hoping that the sudden hurricane of confusion would be extinguished.

"Excuse us. I would like to speak to my son alone," Uther stated, looking at both Sir Melville and Merlin. The knight quietly complied with his king's wishes, standing to his feet and scurrying out of the room like a dog with its tail between its legs. Merlin, on the other hand, was far more hesitant; the last time he had seen Arthur this angry had been when he had seen the ghost of his mother. Still, the King's orders were the King's orders. So Merlin regrettably did as told, stealing one last glance at his friend before the doors to the hall shut.

"How long has she been locked in there for?" Arthur immediately asked once the two had gained more privacy.

"A year or so," Uther stated honestly, causing his son's stomach to twist and turn; he felt sick.

"How could you?" Arthur asked with a heated glare at his father. "There is nothing she could have possibly done to earn such a punishment!" he exclaimed angrily, pacing back-and-forth as his father watched him intently.

"She is a sorceress," Uther stated, almost as if that were to end the discussion.

But Arthur was _far _from finished.

"A _sorceress_?" That explanation just wasn't good enough for Arthur, not this time. "So because she's a sorceress, you believe it is right to just _completely destroy _her_ virtue_ like barbarians?" Arthur yelled, his father slowly losing patience with him.

"It is the only way."

"No! It's not!" Arthur argued. "Since when does Camelot allow our prisoners to be tortured? You've always taught me to do the right thing, and what I saw—what I can _never _forget, that was wrong! Completely and utterly _wrong_."

"You don't understand, Arthur!" Uther snapped back. "That _witch _cannot die!"

The prince stopped his pacing as he finally met his father's gaze. He blinked as he stared at his father, the king wearing a stone-cold expression. "You may not remember this, but when she was first apprehended for her wrong-doings, she had been burned at the stake," Uther began explaining. "And when all was said and done, her body was to be disposed of accordingly." The king made his way towards the window of the hall as he stared out towards his kingdom. Arthur stared at him silently, unsure of how to feel.

"But when the guards went to discard her remains, she was exactly the way she had been before the burning. Not a single mark had been left, not even a scar," Uther stated quietly. "I made sure to keep this information quiet. The last thing Camelot needed was to fear over a sorceress who could not die." But Arthur then wondered, had there been any reason to fear at all?

"Since then I have had her locked down in the dungeon, away from those who could discover the truth about her."

"…And what of Sir Melville?" The prince wasn't so sure Melville deserved the title of "sir".

"I've allowed the knights to do as they please with the prisoner," Uther stated bluntly. "As long as she remains locked away, it is not my concern."

"Why was I not told of this?" Arthur snapped as he shook his head; he was still so muddled about the entire situation.

"It was not something you needed to worry over."

"Why is that?"

"I was protecting you!" Uther finally snapped. "You are a man of honor and value! You are going to be king of this land one day!" And then, Arthur finally realized why his father had failed to mention anything to him.

He didn't want Arthur to follow the path of Sir Melville.

The two stood in a stiff silence for a few seconds as Arthur tried to process everything he had learned in those few minutes. He took a deep breath as he shook his head. "Why was she detained in the first place?"

"She had used magic in order to kill one of our knights." And then, Arthur was beginning to remember the story, slowly but surely.

"...Is there anything else you'd like to know?" Uther asked quietly as he turned back to Arthur, his son avoiding his gaze.

"…No, father."

"Then you are dismissed," the king stated as he began to relax. He watched carefully as his son nodded, turning and head towards the exit of the hall.

"And, Arthur?" Said blond stopped in his tracks as he looked back to meet his father's gaze. "It would be in your best interest to avoid that place." Arthur said nothing before he walked out of the room, leaving Uther to his own devices.

~O~

Merlin sat in Arthur's room, his foot tapping away against the floor. He kept his hands locked together as he waited, until finally the door to his master's chamber swung open. The manservant quietly stood to his feet as he watched his simmering prince walk into the room, slamming the door shut. He said nothing and immediately began to pace from wall-to-wall. The brunet watched him carefully before he finally spoke up.

"How did it go?"

"How do you think?" Arthur snapped as he shook his head. He stopped himself after a second and sighed, looking up at his friend.

"Forgive me, I—"

"It's alright, Arthur." Merlin gave his friend a soft smile before he watched Arthur try and return one back to him.

"What exactly happened?" the manservant asked as Arthur shook his head.

"…I thought I knew everything there is to know about this place," the prince said quietly as he finally took a seat at the table in his room. "I used to adventure the rooms here…Morgana and I." And at the sound of her name, Merlin nearly crumbled to pieces.

Looking up and meeting Merlin's gaze, Arthur sighed. "My father…he's been keeping a sorceress prisoner below the dungeon."

"Below the dungeon?" Merlin asked, slightly confused.

"There's apparently a separate cell beneath the floor of the dungeon," Arthur explained. "He's been keeping her there for a year now."

"Why?" Merlin asked as he glanced in the direction of where the dungeon would be; he had never sensed any other presence of magic before.

"Apparently, she cannot be killed." Emrys had been shocked.

"I've never heard of such magic before," Merlin said as Arthur nodded beside him.

"…So now what?" Arthur looked up to meet Merlin's gaze before he looked to the floor.

"I don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning to you guys. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Been in a weird funk and although I'm still feeling a bit down still I've managed to get this chapter out. Writing has been making me feel a little better so that's a good thing! Anything Merlin related makes me feel better, really ;)

Bunch of thanks to whoever has been reading and the review. It was very much appreciated and I hope that everyone continues to read!

WARNING: If you are not comfortable with mentions of sexual content please do not continue!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is related to BBC's Merlin series

_Chapter Three: Her Name_

Arthur had refrained from returning to that place. He had to physically stop himself, for every time he thought about Sir Melville and the prisoner, he nearly lost control and saw red. So for everyone's benefit, the prince had done his best to forget about what he had learned. But it just didn't seem to do him any good.

Months had passed since the first time the blond had stumbled upon the hatch door, and within those months Arthur couldn't help but notice how a few knights paid visits to the sorceress' cell; it made him want to gag. It was unnerving to see how natural it was for his men. They said nothing to each other if they ever encountered one going to and from the woman's cage. They merely nodded and continued on. And although Arthur knew that his men were loyal and faithful to Camelot and him, he just couldn't see past what he knew.

Standing with the knights in the training field, Arthur watched as they practiced their form with swords. He watched them closely, but as he did so he couldn't help but remember that very moment he had discovered the truth about the dungeons. He closed his eyes and stopped, collecting himself.

"Sire?" Arthur quickly looked over his shoulder as he met Merlin's concerned gaze; at least he had someone by his side he could genuinely trust.

"Don't just stand there like a buffoon, Merlin! You think my armor is going to polish itself?" He watched as his servant rolled his eyes before smiling and shaking his head, making his way to the tent just a few yards away. Releasing a sigh of relief, Arthur looked to his men before dismissing them for the day. He watched them carefully before his eyes fell upon Leon. He smiled to himself as he relaxed.

Leon was always his favorite.

"Sire, you seem rather uneasy this afternoon." Arthur watched as Leon approached him with a raised brow. "Is there something troubling you?"

Leon had never gone to the dungeon. Not once. Arthur had made it a mission to learn who paid Camelot's personal prisoner a visit, and never had he seen the faithful knight wander down to the sorceress; he was relieved.

"No, just a bit tired." For Uther had been rather relentless with his search for Morgana as of late.

"Rest, sire. Your father has us going out for another search party for the Lady Morgana in two days," Leon said quietly, his eyes uncontrollably flickering towards Merlin; it seemed the manservant to the prince was taking her disappearance the hardest.

Arthur nodded as he gave Leon's shoulder a reassuring pat before making his way to Merlin.

"Merlin," he called out as the brunet looked up from his polishing work. "Once you've finished polishing my armor I need you to complete this list of errands for me." He watched carefully as his manservant read over the list, his heart racing. The manservant glanced up in confusion as he raised a brow; it was as if the prince was trying to keep him busy.

"Is there anything else, sire?" Merlin asked hesitantly before Arthur shook his head.

"Just that list. Meet me in my chambers when you've finished."

"Right."

Not waiting for anything else, Arthur turned and began making his way back to the citadel, his heart still pounding against his chest.

He could bear it no longer; he was going back to the dungeon.

~O~

This time of day, no one ever paid her visits. It was the only time of the day that she could find peace for herself.

Every other moment she wished she was dead.

Sighing, the lone woman down in the cellar of the dungeon began to recount the faces she could still remember. It was the only activity that kept her sane through the days. Due to the burlap sack over her face, she could not see anything, nor did she wish to; she did not wish to know the faces of those who violated her.

As she tried to remember the few faces that she could, the woman hummed to herself, not noticing the sound of the hatch door lifting open. She only noticed the other presence in the room when she heard the sound of the door shutting, which caught her off guard. She immediately quieted herself as she laid stiffly on the concrete table she called her bed. Remaining calm, she slowly turned her head to where she thought the stairway was.

"Who's there?" she asked, though no one answered. She frowned as she tried tugging on her bindings; it was useless. "There's no point in prolonging anything," she called out as she sighed.

"Who says I'm here for anything?"

Arthur stood motionlessly, the torches on the wall being the only light in the dank room. He tried to control his breathing, his anxiety suddenly almost getting the best of him. He watched carefully as the young woman laying down turned her head in his direction, and though he knew she could not see him, it was as if her gaze was penetrating through his soul.

"You…You're the man from before," she said hesitantly. Of all the things she could recall, the man who had saved her from a painful and soul-wrenching experience those months ago was fresh in her mind.

The prince said nothing as he took three steps closer to her. He tried not to let his eyes wander, the rags that the woman used for clothes were anything but.

"If you're not here for what men are usually here for, then why _are _you here?" she asked as Arthur stared at her. He cleared his throat as he stood tall, though she couldn't see him anyways.

"…I want to know what you did."

"Your precious _king _said nothing?" she asked venomously. Arthur did his best to ignore the disrespect, though it did tug on his nerves.

"I want to hear it from you."

The prisoner was shocked. Never before had she held conversation with a man longer than a few seconds. She was unsure of why he wanted to talk to her, but if that's what he wanted, she would do her best to comply with his wishes.

"Why should I tell you?" she hissed, finally regaining her courage and glaring through her mask. "You're just like the rest of them, aren't you?" After all, everything always ended up the same way.

Arthur's gaze softened as he grimaced to himself. Even though he had been raised to hate magic and to fear what it could do, it was always a continuous battle of how to feel about those who actually could wield magic. Was this truly appropriate punishment? Just because she possessed magic? She was already on the offensive with him, and he hadn't even made a move to touch her.

What had his knights done to her?

"…I'm not going to do anything to you. You have my word." And for some reason, the sorceress felt like she could truly believe him.

He watched carefully as the prisoner's muscles slowly began to grow lax. Her entire body seemed to sag, her legs stretching straight and her hands no longer gripping the chains biding her to the stone table.

"…Do you really wish to know?"

"Yes, I really would," Arthur replied back gently. He glanced around the nearly empty room before finding an old crate. Taking his perch there, the prince sat, waiting patiently for the sorceress to speak.

"…I've lived in Camelot almost my whole life. And even though the king had banned the use of magic, I had only ever used my magic to help…or rather, just for fun." Arthur didn't understand how something as evil as magic could be used to help others. "I'm not sure how long ago it was. I had been with friends when a few knights of the king had arrived at the tavern. One of them…I'll never forget his name." The prince listened intently, and although the burlap bag hindered the young woman from seeing anything, she could feel her guest's gaze on her.

"Winston Bartholomew." Sir Winston Bartholomew had been one of Camelot's best. He was fast, smart and strong. He had known his way around a sword and bow. Arthur had held high respect for Winston.

It was all beginning to come back to the prince.

"…If you want to know the rest then you'll have to come back another time." Arthur blinked as he stood to his feet, feeling almost a bit cheated.

"You can't do that! I'm the—" he stopped himself before clearing his throat; he was sure if the prisoner discovered he was the king's son she would want nothing to do with him. "I'm the one who came all the way down here just to talk to you," he decided with. He watched as the woman turned her head towards the direction the entrance and exit.

"It's been too long since the last man came to see me. Unless you would like to stay and watch, you'll have to come back another time for the rest." Arthur tried not to growl at the thought of one of his men coming down the steps just behind him. He glanced at the hatch door before sighing and nodding his head in agreement.

Making his way up the treads, he stopped at the top before he pushed the door open. He glanced back down at the prisoner as she laid quietly, her ears twitching for any sound. "…I'll be back."

"…I'm sure you will."

"What's your name?"

"…Feira." The prince stared down at the woman before he smiled and nodded his head.

"I'll be back, Feira." And with that, Feira's guest was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello there. It's been quite some time since I've last been on FanFic. I've been busy with some personal stuff but I'm back now!

Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! I'm super glad you like this story so far and I hope you guys keep liking it. I'll do my best to make sure it's a good story!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Merlin

_Chapter Four: Her Story_

It had been a busy time for Camelot.

Lady Morgana had been saved from the wrath of magic—or so thought Uther.

Arthur and his men had been searching for the king's ward once again. It had seemed hopeless, but that was when Merlin and seen her. She was a mess, if one could even say that. It had looked like she had been running for days. She was skin and bone, and just the sight of her made Merlin and Arthur almost cringe—both for different reasons.

After that, Morgana had been returned to the castle, where she was given time to recuperate from whatever trials she had faced. She had explained what had happened, and just how sorry she had been, and it had seemed that everything had finally returned to the way they were.

But not everything is at it seems.

Arthur tossed and turned in his bed as he tried to get some sleep. He sighed after a few more minutes of rolling around before he sat up. He stared into the darkness of the night, frowning at the one thought on his mind.

_Feira_.

She had been all he could think of after Morgana had been saved, for it had been nearly two months since his last visit to her. He had told her he would come back, and yet he hadn't; he wondered what she thought of him.

Running his hands over his face, the prince released a tired sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment but quickly opened them there afterwards as his mind began envisioning the way her skin seemed to glow in the torchlight. He remembered every curve of her body, every flicker of light against her exposed thighs.

Quickly standing to his feet, Arthur began to pace. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some semblance of control over himself. After taking a few deep breaths, the prince finally managed to get a hold of himself before quietly walking out of his chamber and to the dungeon.

He was ready for the rest of Feira's story.

~O~

It was completely silent in Camelot's dungeon. The flames from the torches flickered throughout the night, though there was one figure that stayed hidden in the shadows.

Arthur shook his head at his own behavior as he cautiously walked down the steps, keeping his back pressed against the wall. He glanced around the corner and rolled his eyes as he watched a pair of guards fast asleep at the base of the stairs; no wonder there were so many attempted escapes from prisoners.

After being able to unnoticeably pass the guards, the prince released a held breath, standing in the empty room before looking down at the latch he had stumbled upon several months before. He stared at it before he carefully knelt down and grabbed the handle. With one quiet grunt, the blond was able to pull the door open. Smiling at his work, Arthur quickly made his way down the steps before shutting the hatch door behind himself.

"It's a bit late for—"

"You're awake?"

Immediately, Feira stopped as she looked towards the entrance. She tried to stare through the material of the bag but failed to see anything other than the weaved threading. Her ears twitched at the sound of dirt and dust scrapping against the bottoms of a pair of boots. She tried not to struggle against the chains that held her hostage; she had learned long ago that it was futile.

"I'm here for the rest of that story." Feira's eyes widened as she turned to the familiar voice. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her cheeks began to turn red. For once, she was thankful for the burlap covering over her face.

"I thought you had forgotten about my tale."

"I would never," Arthur said, suddenly realizing just how intimate the moment was feeling. He quickly cleared his throat before he sat back down on the crate just in the corner of the crawlspace.

"…Why are you so curious about my story?" Feira suddenly asked. Arthur stared at her for moment before his eyes switched to the torch on the wall. He watched as the flames dances, the red and orange dancing across the room. His gaze followed the colors of the fire before falling upon Feira's figure. He tried to stop himself from staring at the way the young woman's legs arched, her arms lying beside her head.

"…All my life, I've been taught to believe magic is evil," Arthur said honestly. "But this notion has always been told to me by those who—well—those who don't have magic," he stated as he shook his head, staring at his feet. Feira listened carefully, her eyes closing at the sound of her companion's voice.

"I want to know how magic is from the other side of the spectrum," said the prince, finally looking up from the ground. "I want to see just how evil magic is to those who have it. And seeing as I've never had the opportunity until now, I figured I would take advantage of it," he said quietly. He waited patiently for Feira to respond, giving the sorceress plenty of time to come up with something to say.

The silence was fragile—the moment hanging by just a single thread between them. Arthur was unsure of how long they had sat in the still of it all, but when Feira had finally spoken it was as if a glass had been dropped on the floor, ripping his attention away from the torch's light.

"I had admired the knights. They were all so tall and strong looking. It was the way I had always imagined nobility to look like," Feira said, almost sounding fond of the memory. "There was an air about them when they first entered the tavern…I never wanted to forget it." Now it took her everything just to not think of that night. "There were at least seven of them, and there was one that led the pack. He must have been the leader, for the other knights seemed to follow his every word and order." Arthur tried not to smile; he had been the leader of the knights that evening.

"The entire night had been _Sir Winston _following me about. I had refused him endlessly, but it seems he just didn't understand," the sorceress explained quietly. "He had wanted something from me that I could not give him," she said as she shook her head, laughing coldly to herself. Arthur frowned at that as he shook his head; he hadn't expected something like that from Winston.

"I had been alone that evening. My parents had passed long ago due to illness, so I lived by myself. It was never really a bother though. The only time I ever regretted being alone was that night," she said quietly as stared through the burlap bag and to the ceiling. "I hadn't been expecting him. I had just left the tavern and had been on my home. That was when he appeared around the corner." The more Arthur listened the more his rage began to simmer.

"I tried not to act so rashly, for he had had a few drinks and I did not want to judge his character. But he was like a brick wall. There was just no getting around him," Feira said quietly as she began reliving the one night she couldn't seem to escape. Arthur watched her intently as she adjusted her position. "Even to this day, I never meant to hurt him…I had only wanted to push him away," she whispered as her lips began to twitch downwards.

This was not how he had expected things to go. All along, deep down in his heart, he had been hoping that Feira's story would be full of anger and hatred. He had been hoping she would give him a reason to fear magic, just like he had been told to all along. This only succeeded in confusing him furthermore.

"Someone like you would never be able to understand it…but there are those of us with magic who sometimes just can't control it. It's like a part of your body that sometimes just…spasms," she explained as she shook her head. "The point is, my magic seemed to act up at that moment, and before I knew it Winston was on the ground and people were screaming," she said as she shook her head.

Arthur watched her as he unknowingly stood to his feet, his eyes glued to the burlap mask. He stared thoughtfully as he began remembering that night.

"Everything happened so quickly. So many people were afraid of me—so many screams. The only thing that seemed to keep me from mentally exploding was the knight in charge." Arthur's eyes widened, the memory of the night completely clear to him in that moment. "I'm sure he had seen me use my magic, and if he hadn't it would have been obvious by the way the villagers screamed 'sorceress' at me. But even still, he was kind to me." Feira remember that moment well, for his blue eyes had been the only thing that kept her sane from the moment on.

"…His name is Arthur Pendragon." Feira blinked, her companion's voice suddenly hovering over her. She blinked a few times as she tried not to tense her entire body. And then, she realized what he had said.

"The king's son?" Feira whispered.

"That's right."

"…That can't be true."

"Why not?"

"The king has hated magic since the time I was born," Feira said as she shook her head. "The son of the king would surely carry on his same beliefs." Arthur tried not to frown at the thought as he looked up at the flames of the torch once more.

"The knight who had helped me, he had been kind to me. He knew I had possessed magic and yet he had treated me carefully. And although he had inevitably arrested me, there was not a moment where I felt like I was in danger," Feira stated. "No son of the king would be ever so gentle and kind to someone of magic. I am sure of it."

He had felt insulted. Though Feira had not meant to insult him to his face, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilt, anger and shame wash over him. Although magic was banned, there were people who still possessed it. There was no changing that. That meant that there were still people in his kingdom that lived in fear; fear of his father and fear of him. That feeling just didn't bode well with him.

"You're wrong about him," Arthur said quietly as he shook his head. "You should not judge someone before you meet them."

"Just as the king should not judge those with magic before meeting them." The prince blinked before his gaze softened. He sighed before shaking his head and looking down at the young woman. Keeping his eyes away from Feira's body, the blond's gaze fell upon the chain and shackle holding the young sorceress prisoner.

"If you have magic, why don't you just escape?" Arthur inquired curiously as Feira chuckled dryly.

"If could have, I would have. These chains contain the magic within me. I have no way of using my magic at all," she explained, the blue-eyed wonder nodding his head.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, neither one wanting to break it. Although he had only come to see her thrice now, Feira was beginning to grow accustomed to this stranger's visits. His company kept her from wasting away like she had been before; now there was something for her to look forward to in her dull, grey life. And as for Arthur, she had opened his eyes to many things he had never thought of before. She was completely different from what he had been expecting of her. He wasn't even entirely sure _what _he had been expecting, but he was fond of what he found.

Still, all things must come to an end.

"I should go," Arthur said quietly as Feira merely nodded. The prince stared quietly at his father's prisoner. His gaze softened, and before he could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around Feira's. Said woman's eyes widened as she turned to her right, Arthur's own eyes filled with shock.

"…You should know that Arthur _is _sorry…he's sorry for everything you've had to endure." Giving her hand one more squeeze before making his way back up the small staircase.

Feira laid in complete shock before she lifted her head, turning it towards the direction of the entrance and exit of her cell. She took shallow breaths before she finally found her voice. "Wait!" she yelled out, hoping she had stopped her visitor from leaving.

She needed to know who he was.

She waited for a moment and listened carefully. She tried to control her breathing as she waited for a moment before saying, "What's your name?"

Arthur stood at the top of the staircase with the door lifted up. He didn't make a move, knowing Feira would be able to hear him. He closed his eyes as he shifted to look back down the steps towards the sorceress' home. Without a word, Arthur turned back around and climbed out from the trap-door, shutting it and locking it.

"Stop!" Feira yelled before she began tugging on her bindings. She grunted and growled as she tried to free herself; she had to see his face.

After several minutes of fighting against chains, the witch stopped, catching her breath. She closed her eyes before she shook her head, laughing icily to herself.

So it seemed Prince Arthur had paid her a visit.


End file.
